


Summers of Love

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Series: 1960s [4]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Epistolary, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 16:54:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15586440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: During the summers of 1966, 1967, and 1968, Mulder and Scully, spending time apart, communicate and build their relationship by letter.





	Summers of Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fourth part in my 1960s AU, but they aren't strictly chronological. It fits in as follows:  
> Section One (1966) takes place after "How to Expand Your Mind"  
> Section Two (1967) takes place after "I Can't Go Back There Anymore"  
> The rest then follows on; the only section of "While She Was Somewhere Being Free" that involves Mulder and Scully takes place after the entirety of this fic. 
> 
> I don't own The X-Files or anything related to it. Hope you enjoy!

_Summer 1966_

Dear Dana,

Hi—I got your address from Melissa.  I was thinking about the conversation we were having about extraterrestrial life at the party a couple of weeks ago, since we didn’t really get to finish talking.  I see the points you were making, but it seems to me that we don’t know what kind of beings we’re dealing with here.  Just because we don’t have the ability to travel that far into space, it doesn’t mean that they don’t exist, or that they wouldn’t be able to get here somehow.  I also wondered what you thought about some of these recent cases, where abductees have reported missing time.  How would you explain that?  I put some newspaper articles about it in for you to read.  You can keep them if you want, I have other copies.  It was really interesting talking to you, and I’m looking forward to reading what you think.  I hope you’re having a nice summer in Maryland.

Yours,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

Thanks for writing to me.  I read the articles you put in.

First of all, I admit that I was a little imprecise when we were talking.  The problems with the capacity of spacecraft don’t necessarily mean that extraterrestrial life couldn’t exist.  However, I still don’t see any logical reason to assume that it does, in fact, exist.  We don’t have any clear evidence or proof—there are a lot of fishy stories out there.  I don’t want to say that you’re wrong about what you remembered, but I do think it’s something that needs more looking into.

Second of all, on that note, I don’t see that those articles prove anything.  People might think they’ve lost time, but there has to be some other explanation for it.  Since time is a universal invariant, it’s not possible for it to disappear.  I’d want to see more about what happened to these people.

I am having a nice summer so far!  I’m working as a candy striper at the hospital here.  I don’t like the uniform, but I like everything else about it.  What have you been doing recently?

Yours,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

I’m glad you wrote back—I was looking forward to continuing this discussion.  Can I ask what kind of evidence would satisfy you?  I know you’re really interested in science, but don’t you think there are some things that science can’t explain?  What other kind of explanation would you give for the lost time?  The way I see it, when there’s something like this that can’t be explained, that’s a sign that we need to look elsewhere than to the usual sources—that there might be a better explanation in the realm of the paranormal.  I put in a couple more articles about this that I think are interesting.

What do you do as a candy striper?  Do you have a principled objection to the concept of uniforms, or do you just think yours is ugly?  I haven’t been doing anything in particular recently, a lot of reading, mostly.  My mother’s been asking me to visit this summer so I might do that, we’ll see.   

Yours,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

I don’t think there are things that science can’t explain, no.  If something happens that we don’t have a scientific explanation for, that just means that we need to learn more—that we don’t know enough about the science yet.  Obviously, I’m not an expert yet and I have a lot more to study, but we’re learning new things in science all the time and finding explanations for things we didn’t understand before.  Right now, I don’t have explanations for everything in the articles you sent, but I believe we could find them someday.  The lost time, though, I think might just be people losing track of time.  That seems like the simplest answer.  Since you keep sending me articles, I thought I would send you a few things we read in my physics class this year, which might help explain where I’m coming from.  The one about Einstein is especially interesting.

At the hospital, I mostly help with filing papers, but sometimes I get to bring things to the patients’ rooms, like flowers or trays.  It’s not complicated work, but it’s interesting for me to get the experience and see what a hospital is like.  I don’t have any kind of objection to uniforms overall.  It’s just that this one has pink stripes, and I don’t look good in pink.

What are you reading?  Anything especially good?  I don’t think you told me—where do your parents live?  Are you close with your mother?  (You don’t have to answer that, if you don’t want to.)

Yours,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

I think I get the idea by now—you’re skeptical about these things.  I hope you don’t mind if I keep pursuing the conversation, though.  It helps me to get your side, and even if you don’t believe me at least you’re not telling me I’m completely full of shit, which is more than I can say for most people. 

I read all the stuff you sent, and you were right about the Einstein paper—very interesting.  What do you like more, the theoretical side of things like this or the practical side, like what you’re doing this summer?  I’m glad you’re liking the experience, and I bet you look fine in the uniform.

In terms of reading, I just finished _In Cold Blood_.  Some of it’s pretty hard to take, but the writing is enthralling.  Now I’ve just started _The Art of Memory_ , which looks like it’s going to be good as well—it’s about the history of mnemonic systems.  You might be interested in it, actually. 

My parents live on Martha’s Vineyard.  As for my mom, I’d say it’s complicated with us.  Like I told you before, things got pretty messed up when Samantha disappeared.  And then my parents don’t like a lot of things about how I live my life, who I spend time with, and all that, which I guess is more of a general kind of problem.  But she is my mom, so that means something.  I know you said you’re close with your dad, but how about you and your mom?  (Same disclaimer applies.  Thanks for that, but I don’t mind telling you about this.)

Yours,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

I don’t mind the conversation at all!  These things are really intriguing.  I like thinking about how we might find explanations, even if we don’t have them right now.  And I’m glad that what I have to say is helpful to you—and that you don’t think I’m completely full of shit either.  Especially since it’s the summer, it’s great to have the chance for some real discussion.

Wasn’t the Einstein paper fascinating?  It’s one of my favorite things I’ve read, so far.  It really made me think about a lot of different possibilities, things I hadn’t considered before.  That’s what I mean about science and the way we can use it to get new explanations for things, even those that had seemed inexplicable.  The part that really wowed me was the twin paradox.  I wrote about it for my final paper, and I’m thinking I might write more in the future.

That’s a really good question, about the theoretical versus the practical.  Is it a cop-out if I say both?  I think they have to inform each other.  Obviously, I’m not going to be using much theoretical physics as a doctor, and I don’t really put Einstein into practice when I’m carrying flowers around the hospital, but just thinking about both sides of things together helps me a lot.  That’s nice of you to say about the uniform, but I really look like a dumb carrot.

I haven’t read either of those!  But _In Cold Blood_ is on my list (I like Capote), and I’ll put _The Art of Memory_ there too.  Let me know how it’s going.  One of my friends loaned me _The Source_ by James Michener, so I’ve been reading that for a while (it’s pretty long).  It’s a look at some history I don’t know a lot about, so I like it for that.

I understand what you’re saying, especially about parents not liking what you’re doing.  I’m pretty close with my mom, but she definitely worries about me a lot when I’m at school.  It’s mostly because of Melissa dropping out and everything, so I try not to take it too personally, but it’s hard to know what to tell her.  Especially since I’m not doing anything for her to worry about!  Now that I’m home for the summer, I don’t think my parents are as worried, but it’s a little bit of an adjustment being back.  But I like seeing them and Charlie (my younger brother).  If you go home, when are you going?

Yours,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

Well, since I have the go-ahead from you: here’s another article.  This one’s about some possible UFO wreckage.  How would you go about trying to understand something like this, where the materials aren’t like any materials we’ve seen before?  How would you get around a paranormal explanation?

I thought that was interesting about the twin paradox as well.   I’d really like to read your paper, if you’d want to send it to me.  Or if you want to wait until you’ve written more, that’s fine as well.  I’d be interested at any stage.

I don’t think it’s a cop-out!  Makes a lot of sense to me.  That’s similar to what I think about when I read about abductions and try to get information—that it might help me to find Samantha one day.

 _The Art of Memory_ is still going well.  I’m almost finished with it.  I definitely think you would be interested, especially since this last part talks a lot about the early scientific method.  Right up your alley, I think.  I haven’t read _The Source_ , but I liked some of his earlier books.  Would you recommend it? 

The adjustment is always an issue, once you’ve been away for a while.  Whenever I see my parents, it seems like I spend half my time explaining why I live where I live, why I spend time with who I spend time with, and all the rest of it.  They want me to be a lot more on the straight and narrow, to which I say no thanks.  But I am going back this week, actually, and I’ll be there until the end of the month.  I put their address in here too, if you want to write back (which I hope you do).

Yours,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

I read the article you sent.  While I don’t have an explanation right now for those materials they found, I can tell you what I’d try to do to figure them out.  I’d do a lot of tests, comparing them to other materials, seeing how they reacted to things like heat or cold.  And I’d look at the place where they were found, to see if there were hints there.  I’d try to isolate what made them unique, but I’d also try and figure out what they were most like, so that I could make some better hypotheses about how they worked.

That’s really nice of you to ask to read my paper!  My friends aren’t usually that interested in this kind of thing.  I’m putting a copy in with this letter.  I’d really like to know what you think.

I’ll definitely read _The Art of Memory_ , from what you say about it.  I finished _The Source_ last week (finally), and I think it is worth reading, although it is pretty long.  One thing I did read that made me think of you was _The Martian Chronicles_ , which I’ve been reading this week (I took it from Charlie, who’s into that kind of stuff) and am liking a lot.  I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve read it already, but if not…

I agree with what you say about being back home.  Again, I do like seeing my family, but I definitely don’t feel like I’m as free to say what I think here as when I’m at school.  Like talking about the war—and I’m definitely nowhere near as critical as Melissa is.  But if you say anything even mildly critical here—I’m talking about even asking a question—it turns into such a big thing that it’s really not worth it.  And I don’t want to make my parents upset, you know?  Especially since Bill is there.  But I hope things are going okay for you with your parents.  Let me know how it is, if you want.  I’m actually going away next week too, to this lake that’s about an hour away.  My family likes to go there in the summer.  I’ll put in the address too, although we won’t be there very long (just until the beginning of August) so it’s okay if you wait and write when I get back.

Yours,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

Thank you for writing back so quickly.  It was really good to get your letter while I’m here and to have your paper to read too.  I was really impressed by the paper.  Obviously, I knew you’re smart and a good writer (since I’ve read all your letters), but you had so much to say that was interesting in the paper, things I definitely wouldn’t have thought about.  I like that you didn’t just take the material as gospel but really went into it and put your own spin on it (although, considering how you respond to everything, I should have expected that).  I definitely think you should write more, if you want to.  And when you do, I want to read that too.

What you say about the article makes sense too.  What I wonder about, though, is what happens when you can’t explain something.  That’s the part I find most intriguing—and sometimes most frustrating.  I want to find my sister, but I’m worried that so many of the paths lead nowhere.

I’ve been thinking about it a lot since I’ve been at my parents’ house, which makes sense, I guess, except that you wouldn’t know it talking to them, since they never talk about her.  And if I were to try to bring it up—well, let’s just say I know what you mean about every small conversation turning into a big thing.  So we’re sticking to safer topics, like my haircut (uncouth) and my apartment (a mystery why I choose to live like that).  I know that there’s some level on which my mother wants me here, but it’s sometimes hard to figure out what that level is.  But your letter was a bright spot.  And I’ll be back in the city at the end of the week.

Let me know what you think when you get to _The Art of Memory_!  I’d really like to know your opinion.  And I have read _The Martian Chronicles_ , but it’s a great one.

Yours,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

Thank you for writing quickly too!  What you said about my paper was so nice.  My professors are wonderful and so are the other girls in my science classes, but a lot of other people I know, when I try to talk them about what I want to do, act like a girl can’t be a doctor or understand science or like I’m just playing around until I meet some guy.  I try not to listen to that kind of thing, but I get really tired of it.  Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that what you said meant a lot.  So thank you.

I understand what you’re wondering about, and I guess I don’t have a good answer for it, not yet.  But I’m really sorry that things didn’t go well with your parents.  It must be hard not to be able to talk about Samantha.  And I’m sorry they pick at you—that’s so annoying.  Your hair is fine, and anyway it’s your hair and your apartment.  I’m really glad if my letter could help, though.  I like getting your letters too.

It’s mostly fun being at the lake.  I always love it here.  Melissa came down too, and it’s nice to see her, although it’s a little tense now, especially with our dad.  They had a fight about the war at dinner last night, and my mom cried, and Charlie just sort of pretended he wasn’t there, and I tried to calm things down but I don’t think I did much good.  Now we’re both in our room and she keeps asking me about what I’m writing and why I’m sitting in here writing instead of going outside with her to swim.  So I should probably finish this up now, but I’ll write more when I’m home again.  I can’t believe there’s less than a month of summer left!

Yours,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

Well, I’m back in New York now.  It’s nice to have that little bit of space. 

I meant it, about your paper.  I brought it back here with me, and I read it again.  It’s still great.

Thanks for what you said, about my parents.  It’s pretty much what I expect by now, but it still feels like shit sometimes.  Especially not being able to talk about her.  Thanks for letting me talk to you.

I’m glad the lake was nice, but sorry you also had your own family problems.  Did things get any better over the rest of the time?  If I know Melissa, she wouldn’t back down about anything, but I hope it was a little calmer after you wrote, at least. 

Are you back at the candy striping now?  Is candy striping the correct verbiage?  I hope your summer finishes up well.  When do you go back to school?

Yours,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

You can talk (or write) to me any time, and you don’t have to thank me for it.  You always pay attention to what I have to say, even when I’m complaining about dumb things like my uniform, so why shouldn’t I do the same for you?  If you ever want to tell me more about Samantha, I’d be happy to hear.

It stayed pretty much the same with us—there wasn’t any more actual fighting, but my dad and Melissa wouldn’t really talk to each other for the rest of the time.  You pretty much nailed it about her.  I think she’s probably happy to be back in New York, too.

The rest of us are back at home, and yes, I’m still candy striping (seems as good verbiage as any).  I finish up around the middle of the month and then I go back to school in the beginning of September.  I think I’m moving in on the third.  Monica and I are rooming together again, and we have a suite with some other girls.  My mom wants to make us curtains, so we’ve been writing to try to figure out the color.  I’m really looking forward to getting back and seeing everybody again.

I got _The Art of Memory_ at the bookstore yesterday, and I’m going to start it soon!  Are you reading anything else that’s good?

Yours,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

I know you said not to thank you, so I’ll just say this: it really does mean a lot that you want to read what I have to say.  I haven’t been able to talk about Samantha to a lot of people, but I guess I’ll just start by saying that I miss her.  She was four years younger than me, and we did fight sometimes and got on each other’s nerves, but I really do.  She was only eight, when she disappeared, but she was really smart and really determined too.  I remember one time I was biking somewhere and I didn’t take her with me, and she followed me all day until she caught up.  Just things like that.  And she’d always defend herself, if other kids were being mean or something, and I’d try to look out for her and she’d tell me she didn’t need help.  But I’d do it anyway, you know, since she was my little sister.  I always feel like I should have done more.  I was there when it happened and I should have stopped it.  But I’m going to do something now.  I owe it to her.

I saw Melissa the other day, and she does seem glad to be back here.  She was interrogating me about our correspondence too.  But I didn’t give out any confidential information.

It won’t be long before you’re back here, then.  What color are you leaning towards for the curtains?

Let me know how you like the book.  I took inspiration from your mention of _The Martian Chronicles_ and started reading _Something Wicked This Way Comes_ , which I’ve been meaning to get to for a while.  So far, it’s excellent.

Yours,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

I don’t feel like I have the right words for what I want to say to you, because it doesn’t seem like enough just to tell you again that I’m so sorry for what happened.  I can’t imagine how that must feel.  From what you say, I can tell you really loved her.  And what happened wasn’t your fault.  How could it be?  You were just a kid too.  You shouldn’t feel guilty (although I guess that’s probably easier said than done).  I’m glad you told me about Samantha, and I hope it helped you some.

Interrogating you sounds like Missy.  She was doing the same on this end.  She always wants to know what’s going on and then gives me weird advice about it.  But I love her anyway.

Yes, less than two weeks now!  We picked green for the curtains.  My mom made us green curtains last year too, so we decided to stick with that.  Last year Monica brought cookies when we moved in and she says she’ll do that again.  She’s a really good baker, so I’m excited about that.

So far, I like the book a lot!  She does a great job giving you a lot of information and also making it accessible.  Thanks for recommending it to me!

Yours,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

Thank you for what you said.  Your words seem all right to me.

I’ve got to admit that I care more about cookies than curtains—so I’d probably be excited about the baking too.  And I’m glad that you like the book!

Since you’re moving in on the third, I was wondering if you would be interested in having lunch together on the fourth or fifth.  I’ve really enjoyed writing all summer, and I’d like to continue our conversation in person, if you would.  Let me know.  Either day works well for me, or we could do a different time if you like.

Yours,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

I’m glad.

That sounds like a wonderful idea.  Let’s do the fourth—I could meet you after church?  I go to church at 121st between Broadway and Amsterdam, so we could meet there around noon, or somewhere else if that’s easier for you.  Since I don’t know exactly when this will get to you or if you’ll have time to write back to me before I leave, you could just call me on the Saturday night to let me know where you want to meet.  I’m putting our suite phone number in with this.  I’ve enjoyed the writing too—it’s been one of the best parts of my summer—and I’m looking forward to seeing you again in person.

Yours,

Dana

 

_Summer 1967_

Dear Dana,

You might not even have left New York yet, but I wanted to write to you right away.  I already miss you.

I keep thinking about last night.  You were so gorgeous, Dana, and I can’t believe I get to touch you like that.  I loved everything about it, everything about you.  I love how soft your skin feels and the noises you made when I touched you and God, your face when you came.  And you touching me too, and your mouth, and the way you were looking at me the whole time, I could have come just from that.  And the way you said you trusted me.  Please know I’d never do anything to change that.  I just want to make you happy, make you feel good.  It’s never been like this for me with anyone else.

I don’t know how I’m going to stand three months of this, to be honest.  I know we’ll have letters and last summer your letters were wonderful and I’m sure they will be again, but that was before I even knew the half of it, when it comes to you.  Just how amazing you are.  What it’s like to see you and hold you and kiss you and touch you.  I’m sure I sound like a broken record right now, but you’re all I’m thinking about.  I wish you were here with me.

Maybe I could drive down and see you some time during the summer.  What do you think?

I love you, my gorgeous girl.

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

Jesus!  Warn me if you’re going to write letters like that!  I opened it in the kitchen with my parents right there, and if they ever see it, I know I’m getting sent to a convent.

I’m in my room by myself now, though, and I’m reading your letter again and again.  And just reading it makes me get so hot all over.  I keep thinking about that night too.  You made it so perfect for me, I wasn’t even nervous.  I’d never felt anything even close to that before.  I keep thinking about how you touched me, how your fingers felt inside me and how sweet you were when you were kissing me, kissing my breasts.  And I loved making you feel good too.  The way you kept saying my name when I had my mouth on you, that got me so turned on.  Every time we touched, it just felt so good.  And you holding me and us talking after.  I do trust you and I always will.  It’s never, never been like this for me either, but I guess you knew that.

I can’t believe it’s three months either.  I miss you so much and I wish we could be together.  Even just seeing each other would be better than this, but I know I wouldn’t be able to stop myself, I’d have to kiss you and then I’d want more.  Please keep writing and I’ll write too.  And I’d love it if you came to visit.  I miss our walks and our talks and your apartment, even your dumb mattress, and you most of all. 

You can write more letters like that, if you want to.  I’ll just know to open them when I’m by myself.

I love you too, so much.

Love,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

I’m sorry about your parents being there.  I wasn’t thinking.  I hope you’re reading this letter by yourself.

God, Dana, reading your letter only made me miss you that much more.  It got me thinking about touching you all over again.  Right now, I’m thinking about that little spot on your neck, the one right under your ear, and those breathy noises you make when I kiss you there.  It’s the sexiest thing in the world.  Reading what you have to say and not being able to touch you is like torture.  But don’t stop writing, that would be even worse.

I miss all of that too, except my apartment, I guess, since I’m in it right now.  How can you keep saying my mattress is dumb?  It’s been the scene of such wonderful moments.

I guess I’ll try to write about some other things, to take my mind off it a little.  My job is going well.  There are so many kids coming to the city right now, and most of them need help with one thing or another.  It’s good to feel like I’m able to do something for them, anyway.  Everyone else is doing fine.  The guys say hi.  They keep teasing me that I’m pining for you.  Easy for them to laugh.  How’s your job going?  How’s everything with your family?

I will come to visit, then, since you want me to.  I’ll see if I can get any time off work or at least come on the weekend.  Is there any special time that you’d want me to visit?

God, I love you, Dana.

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

I opened your last letter alone in my room, so no problems, I’m happy to report. 

I know what you mean.  I’m so happy when I get a letter from you, and all I want to do is read it.  But then once I’ve read it, I just miss you more and more, and I want to have you with me.  I wish you could be kissing me there right now.  And I wish I could be kissing you too.  I love the way you stroke my hair when I’m kissing down your chest, the way you squirm when I’m down by your hips.  You see I’m in the same state as you are.  But don’t you dare stop writing either!

I guess you have a point about the mattress.  But it still seems to me it would be just as good if you got a frame for it.

I’m glad your job is still going well.  You’re doing important work, and I’m really proud of you (have I mentioned that?).  Say hi to the guys for me, and Missy too if you see her.  I wrote to her too, but she’s not as good a correspondent as you are.  My job is good!  Since it’s my second year working there, I get to do a little more, like helping with feeding patients and making dressings.  Also, I have a different uniform—this one is yellow.  It’s not a lot better than last year’s, but it’s a little better.  My family is doing well too.  Charlie teases me that I’m mooning over you, so you’re not the only one having to put up with that, if it makes you feel better.  Now that he’s going to be a senior, he thinks he knows everything, which he doesn’t.  My mom said to say hi from her if I’m writing to you.  So hi from my mom!

Any time you want to come, you won’t hear me complaining.  But let me check with my parents about when we’re going to the lake.  I’ll let you know in my next letter, which will be soon, don’t worry.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Love,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

I’m still missing you.  And it’s not just touching you—although that is part of it—it’s everything.  I keep seeing things I want to tell you about, or something happens that I want to get your opinion on, and I can’t because you’re not there.  I try to remember everything to put in my letters, but it’s not quite the same.  I wish you could be with me and see these things too.  And I wish we could talk in person.  A bunch of us were hanging out at the guys’ last night, and it just wasn’t like it usually is, not without you there to talk with.  There wasn’t much to do except watch Byers and Starchild break the obscenity laws, which is not my idea of an evening’s entertainment.  I did see Melissa, though, and I told her you said hi.  She says she misses you and she’ll write when she gets a chance, or if not she’ll see you in July. 

The work is still going well.  The other night these two girls came in who were really young, probably not more than fifteen.  They were sisters and they’d just come to New York by themselves, and we helped them find a place to stay and made sure they had enough money to get food.  I did wonder about their family, though.  We asked them why they came here and they didn’t say much, but they said they couldn’t go back home.  I know we’re doing a lot to help these kids, but I always wonder if we could do anything else, if we could make things better somehow.  The whole service is pretty new, though, so maybe if I stay here longer I’ll be able to help improve things.  I’m glad it’s going well for you at the hospital.  I bet you’re doing great with the new work, and I bet you look cute in the new uniform.  Tell your mom I say hi as well.  It was nice of her to think of me.

Let me know what your family’s plans are when you can.  I just can’t wait to see you.  Right now, I’m looking at that picture of us from Melissa’s birthday, the one Frohike took.  You look gorgeous, and I look like I can’t believe how lucky I am.  Which is true.

I love you more than anything.

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

I’m still missing you too.  Everything you’re talking about sounds so good, and I want to be there with you.  I think I miss our conversations most too.  It’s nice being with my family, but I don’t have anyone to talk to like I do when I’m with you.  I keep thinking about all those times when we’ve talked so long that we’ve completely lost track of time.  Remember when I was at your apartment and we were talking about astronomy and then we looked at the clock and it was already after twelve-thirty?  And we got that cab so I could get back before curfew but then when we were back at Barnard you kept kissing me outside my dorm and I still almost missed getting in on time?  I had to run up the stairs but it was so worth it.  I can’t have those kinds of conversations with my parents or Charlie, or even my friends from high school.  It’s just special with you. 

I’m glad to hear you saw Melissa, though.  She probably won’t write to me, but I’ll see her soon, anyway.  And it sounds like Byers and Starchild haven’t changed since I’ve been away!  Keep letting me know what you’re all doing.  That way I’ll feel like I’m with you a little bit (but not really, unfortunately).

I understand how you feel about these kids, but it sounds like you did the right thing for them.  I know you want to help every lost kid out there, and I know why you want to, and I love you for it.  But you’re already doing so much, and I think you’re right: if you’re there longer, you’ll be able to help make things even better.  It is always hard, though, when it’s your job to take care of people.  Earlier this week I was bringing a woman in the hospital her lunch, and she kept screaming at me.  I knew she was in pain and it didn’t have anything to do with me, but I felt bad because I couldn’t really do anything for her.  I’ll be glad when I’m actually a doctor and can do more for people, but I’m sure there will still be cases where I feel like I can’t do enough.

And saving the best for last: I have some good news!  I talked to my parents, and my mom had the idea for you to come down when Melissa does, when we all go to the lake.  What do you think?  It’ll be in the last week of July.  My dad says you can’t stay in the house with us, though.  Sorry about that, but I think it was either that or you not coming at all.  There are a lot of places to stay around there, though, so I don’t think you should have trouble, and I’m putting in a pamphlet with the names of some of the motels.  Please say you’ll come because I want to see you so badly.

I love you like crazy.

Love,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

I’ll start with your good news.  That sounds great—count me in!  I talked to Melissa, and she said we can drive down together, which should be a trip in itself.  And don’t worry, I’ll be on my best behavior around your dad. 

I do remember that night, of course.  I couldn’t help losing track of time when you kept saying such brilliant things.  Your letters are brilliant too, but I think I’ve gotten a little greedy this past year, because I miss the instant gratification—telling you something and hearing what you think right away.  I was thinking about that this week because I started reading _The Death of a President_ and I really wanted to talk to you about it.  Have you read it yet?  The guys all have, and they all have their own theories, of course, but I want to know what you think the most.

We all went to a protest earlier this week.  There’s been a lot of anger here about what happened at the demonstration in Los Angeles, although I don’t know how much talk there’s been where you are.  Melissa and Starchild made some pretty groovy signs.  I guess this is another one of those things like what we’ve been talking about, though—where you feel like you could be doing more, whatever you do.  It does help to hear that you feel the same way, though, even though I still wish I could do something better to help these kids.  The thing is that I’m not sure what it should be yet.  As for the thing at the hospital, I know you did the best you could.  You’re going to be a great doctor because you care about people this way.  And because you’re as smart as hell, too.

So I’ll be seeing you in less than a month now.  I hope the time will pass more quickly than it has so far, but I doubt it.

I love you so much, Dana.

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

I’m so glad you’re coming!  I was really tired when I got home from work, but then I saw your letter and I went up to my room and read it and I was so happy I started dancing.  I absolutely can’t wait to see you!  And I’m glad you’ll be on your best behavior.  We already know my mom loves you (and I think you’re pretty cute too), but we’ve got to keep working on my dad still.  Even if that means not fooling around.  I know, I know, it makes me sad too.

I haven’t read _The Death of a President_ yet, but I want to.  I bet the guys have some interesting theories, though, and I’m sure if I were there we’d all be arguing about it.  I wonder if it would go on even longer than that time in March when we argued about Roswell?  You haven’t convinced me yet, you know.  But I love you anyway. 

We have been talking about Los Angeles some, but I imagine it’s in a very different way from all of you.  My dad and his friends have been saying that the protestors should have expected what would happen if they wouldn’t disperse.  I try to point out the other side, but nobody listens to me around here.  I think they think you and Missy are bad influences on me.  But even if the two of you have helped me look at things differently, I make my own decisions.  It hasn’t been too tense, but I am a little worried about my dad and Missy being together when we’re at the lake.  Maybe when the two of you are driving down, you could encourage her to get all her thoughts out of her system. 

You’re so sweet to me, Mulder.  Thank you for saying I’ll be a great doctor.  You’re great at what you do too.  And you always will be, whatever you choose to be.

Three weeks now!  I think I might go crazy waiting!  I think about you all the time, every day and every night.

I love you to pieces.

Love,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

Well, I’m glad to hear you think I’m pretty cute.  I am faced with a difficult situation now, though.  You’re telling me that getting your dad to like me means not fooling around.  But I want you to keep liking me too, and I know that you enjoy fooling around.  So what’s a guy to do?  Please advise.

Look, the guys and I are not making it up about Roswell.  It’s not like we came up with the idea on our own, and there’s plenty of evidence.  You should read some of the firsthand information.  I know you love to be skeptical about these things, but this isn’t just some crazy idea.  (But I love you anyway too.) 

I’m sorry about what’s going on with your dad.  Glad you’re fighting the good fight, though.  If I have been a bad influence, I can’t really say I’m sorry, because you don’t seem any the worse for it.  But I know you do make your own decisions, and I’d never expect any less from you.  I promise I won’t start any fights while I’m there, but I know better than to make any promises on Melissa’s behalf.  Let’s cross our fingers, I guess.

Regarding you being a great doctor: I say it because it’s true.  But you’re sweet to me too.  I’ve never known anyone so sweet.  What do you think about, Dana?  When you think about me?

I love you and I always will.

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

Okay, fair point about the fooling around.  How about this: no fooling around when and where we’re going to get caught?  Does that seem all right to you?

I read all the stuff you gave me, Mulder!  And I still think it was a weather balloon.  But we can argue about it in person when we see each other, if you like. 

I’m trying not to worry too much about any potential arguments while we’re at the lake—Missy does what Missy does, and I don’t think any of us can change that—and instead concentrate on the good part: that I’m seeing you again next week!  Personally, I think you’re a very good influence on me, because you make me so, so happy.  And if you’re good enough for me, you have to be good enough for my dad.

What do I think about?  So many things.  But I’ll tell you what I was thinking about last night, when I was trying to get to sleep.  I was thinking about the two of us, in your apartment, lying on your (dumb) mattress.  One of those rainy days we had in April, when we couldn’t go outside, just lie there and talk and kiss.  I was thinking about the way you always hold me, how comfortable it feels.  And I was imagining taking off your shirt, and you taking off my blouse and my bra, and just the two of us lying there like that, skin to skin.  And you kissing me and finding all the spots to make me shiver.  And then I was thinking about the last night, before I came home for the summer, and what we did then, the way you touched me.  Your fingers between my legs.  I could barely get to sleep.

Just five more days until I see you in person…

I love everything about you.

Love,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

I miss you again, already.  I’ll try not to complain, though, because we only have a month now, and because last week was so wonderful.  Please say thank you again to your family for me.  Your mom really is so nice, and Charlie’s a good kid.  And I hope I made a good impression on your dad this time. 

But obviously the best part was seeing you.  I can see why you like going there so much; it’s a beautiful place, although I’m sure my impression was influenced by who I had showing me around.  It was great to be able to talk to you again, to just sit there and talk and not have to wait for you to write back.  And just being able to touch you again.  Even though we didn’t have that much privacy, it was like magic compared to the last couple of months.  Getting to kiss you and hold you.  And of course, our walk the night before I went home. 

Do you know what I would have done that night, if you hadn’t had to get back inside?  If we hadn’t had to worry about your family being around?  I would have lain down on the dock with you and touched you like we did before.  I want to make you come again, want to see you and hear you.  I can’t wait to be together again.  Everything’s better when I’m with you.

Melissa and I had a pretty good drive back.  She said that I better be good to you, but I didn’t need her to tell me that.  Otherwise, there’s nothing much new going on since we saw each other.  I’m back at work, which is busy.  Byers and Starchild broke up again, but I don’t expect it to last.

What would you have wanted to do, that night, if you hadn’t had to go in?

I love you more than ever.

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

I miss you again too.  I know you’re right and it’s less than a month now, but seeing you made me love you all over again (not that I didn’t the rest of the summer, but you know what I mean).  I passed on your thanks to everyone.  My mom says it was a pleasure to see you, and my dad said he sees why I like you so much, so I think you did make a good impression!  Which, considering that we did fool around, is no mean feat.  Charlie is still teasing me, but I guess there’s no hope there.

It was such a wonderful time.  You know I always love going there, but it was even better than usual, since I had you with me.  Those wonderful talks.  And walking around holding your hand.  The way we kissed.  Even when you were just sitting next to me at dinner, not even touching me at all, I felt all tingly.  And, of course, that last walk.  I’ve been wanting that all summer.  I’ll tell you what else I would have wanted to do, but first I’d better tell you what I did yesterday.

Mom and Dad and Charlie went to my Aunt Olive’s for lunch, but I said I wasn’t feeling well.  I have my grandmother’s wedding ring; she left it to me.  So I took it and I took the bus out to a doctor’s office—I went over to the next town, because I know too many doctors here from working at the hospital, and I needed to be somewhere no one would know me.  And I put on the ring and I went in.  My heart was beating so hard and I thought they would look at me and figure out that I wasn’t married, but I guess I carried it off.  And I got a diaphragm.

So now you know what I would have wanted to do.  I want to now.  I’m ready.  And we’ll be back together in two weeks.

I love you so much, Mulder, and I trust you completely.

Love,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

Jesus.

You’re always doing something to surprise me.  You are a marvel.  I can just picture you going into that doctor’s office.  I wish I could have seen you. 

I hope you know by now that I would never push you, but I’ve wanted this too, for so long.  I’m so glad you do too.  You’re brilliant and gorgeous and I want to be with you like this and show you how much I love you.  I’ll do everything I can to make it good for you.

You realize you’ve rendered me incapable of rational thought for the next week and a half, though, right?  I was trying to think of other things to write to you about and I’m coming up with nothing.  Can you let me know exactly when you’re getting back?

Reading this over I can see that it might look like I don’t think about anything but sex.  You know that’s not true, right?  That’s not the only reason I love you.  But just thinking about it… You do crazy things to me, Dana.

I love you almost too much to wait to see you again.

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

Maybe you should try taking a cold shower.  I’m a little worried about you.

In all seriousness, it’s very flattering to know I have this effect on you.  And you’re not the only one who’s excited, you know.  I love you, and I love it when you touch me.  I know you’ll be good to me, and that’s why I want this so much.

I’ll be back on the second, probably around midday, but since my parents are driving me up I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to show up at my dorm and jump me the moment I arrive.  I promise I’ll call you as soon as I’m free.  And then, if you like, I’ll come over.  And then it’ll be just the two of us again.  Finally!

Less than a week now!

I love you absolutely.

Love,

Dana

 

_Summer 1968_

Dear Dana,

I’m not going to pretend I don’t wish you were staying in New York this summer.  You already know that, I think, and you know how much I’m going to miss you.  I think we could have made it work, but I understand where you’re coming from too.  So I’ll just keep writing and reading your letters and hopefully come to see you again.

For the moment, I’m trying to concentrate on work.  We’re still trying to find more people—it’s been really busy.  There are still so many kids coming in, and there’s a lot we need to do for them.  I did hang out with the guys on Saturday, though.  They say hi.

Let me know how it’s going with your applications.  I’m happy to read anything for you, if you want.  I hope your job goes well too.  Say hello to your family for me. 

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

I know you say you understand, but I get the sense you’re still a little upset with me.  I don’t know quite what to say to that, since I’ve already explained how I feel.  It’s not about you or us or any of that.  I just need to be able to focus on my medical school applications right now, and I can do that better at my parents’ house, where there aren’t so many people around.  I’ve wanted this for as long as I can remember, and I want to give it everything I can. 

I know you support me in this—you always have, it’s one of the things I love about you—but maybe we should talk about it more.  It’s just the summer for now, but after this year I’ll be in medical school (I hope, I hope, I hope) and then I might not be in New York anymore.  And we haven’t really talked about that—about what we’d want to do about us, in that case.  I’m not trying to say we should do any particular thing.  I just think we should talk about it.  We both have work that’s important to us, and I know I wouldn’t want to change that, at least, but you’re important to me too.  And whatever we’d do I’d want it to be something we chose.  Not just something that happened.

I hope I’m not getting too heavy with this.

I’m sure you’re really busy with work, and I hope you find some more people for the new spots soon.  I’m only working two days a week at the hospital right now, so that I have more time to work on my applications, but it’s going pretty well.  I know a lot of the doctors and nurses from the last two summers, so it’s nice to see them again.  At home, everybody’s talking about Charlie starting college at the end of the summer, which is just as well because it means they don’t ask me about my applications so much.  Sometimes I don’t even want to think about them myself.  I’m so close, but it’s all up to me now.  Anyway, tell the guys and everyone that I said hi!  My mom says hi to you.

I really do miss you a lot, Mulder.  And I love you.

Love,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

I’m sorry if I sounded upset in the last letter.  I guess I was, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.  You’d never get in the way of anything that was important to me, and I don’t want to do that to you either.  So I’m sorry.

I think it probably had to do with what you said—that we haven’t ever talked about the future.  We should, though.  Especially because of something that happened today.  I was talking with my boss, about some ideas I had for things we could do at the center, especially for helping kids who haven’t run away yet but seem like they might.  And he liked the ideas, and then he was asking me if I’ve ever thought about going back to school for this kind of thing.  Social work or anything like that.  It’s a new idea to me, so I don’t know yet, but it’s something I want to think about.  I think I like the idea.  Maybe even just taking a class or two, at first.

I want to know what you think, though, because I agree with what you said—that whatever we end up doing, it should be something we choose.  And I want it to be something the two of us choose together.  I know you have somewhere you see yourself, in terms of your career, and I’m still figuring that part out to some extent, but I know that, at least, I see myself with you.  I want you to know that.  I hope you see things the same way.

I hope I’m not the one who’s getting too heavy now.

I’m glad things are going well at the hospital and with your family, and I hope the applications are too.  I know you’re nervous, and I wish I could help with that.  All I can say is that they’d be crazy not to take you.  You’re the smartest person I know, and also likely smarter than most of the people I don’t know.

I love you too, if I haven’t mentioned that recently.  I was thinking about holding you last night.  It’s not the same without you here.

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

Thank you for saying that.  It’s all right—I do understand.

That’s so wonderful, about what your boss said.  It’s really up to you, of course, but since you said you want to know what I think: I absolutely think you should do it!  Even just a few classes to start, like you said.  But I think you’d be so good at it.  You’re already great at what you do—you’re so empathetic and good with the kids—and this would let you do even more to help them.  You know I’m really proud of you, and I’m glad that other people appreciate you too.

What you said, about seeing yourself with me…that means so much.  I guess maybe I thought that you felt that way, hoped it, anyway, but it’s different having you tell me right out.  I was so happy reading your letter.  And I see myself with you too.  Of course I do.

So we should think about what that would mean, for next year.  If you go back to school, would you stay in New York?  I’d like it if I could, but I’ll have to go wherever they’ll take me.  I wouldn’t want us to be apart for that long, though, if we could help it.  We’re pretty good at writing letters, true, but I think we’re better at being together in person.  I’m really busy this summer, but somehow I still have plenty of time to miss you, even just the little things about you.  Just this morning I was thinking about the way you brush my hair back when we’re cuddling.  And the way you look at me when we’re having one of our long discussions.  And then I was almost late for work.  Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I would really like it if we could still be in the same city once I finish college.  Tell me what you’re thinking.

My applications are coming along—I might send you an essay to read, next time I write, to see what you think.  It’s a lot of work, but I keep telling myself I’m almost there.  Tell me what’s going on with you and everyone else.  I miss hanging around with everyone.  You especially.

Love,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

It means a lot to me that you’d say that about us too.  No one’s ever really said that to me.  I don’t know how to tell you how it makes me feel.  Just…I love you, Dana.

I’m glad you think I should take the classes.  I’m starting to look into it.  I thought I could start this year, maybe taking night classes, so I can still keep working, which I’d want to do, anyway.  And for now, I’d stay in New York.  But for next year, you’re right about us being better at being together in person.  If you end up going somewhere else for medical school, maybe I could look into going to wherever that is too.  If you’d want me there with you.

I miss a lot of little things too, Dana.  Lying around reading next to each other, not even having to talk.  Making you smile.  The way you stand on your tiptoes when you’re trying to get things out of my cabinets and you still can’t reach them.  I want to see you every day.

As for me, I’m still busy at work, and I’ve been talking more with my boss about my plans.  He’s been really helpful.  A bunch of us went over to Melissa and Starchild’s on Saturday.  We were talking a lot about music, and Melissa was playing _Song to a Seagull_.  She kept trying to make everyone stop talking and listen.  It didn’t really work.  Monica was there, and she said she misses you too.  She told me to tell you she just got your letter, and she’s going to write back this week.  Byers and Starchild are together again and were being their usual selves.  But everyone says hi. 

I’d love to read your essay, whenever you want to send it.  You’ll be done soon, and I’m sure it’ll feel great.

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

First things first: we’re going to the lake on July twenty-ninth.  Do you want to come down with Missy again?  I really hope you can!  Charlie’s acting nostalgic, like this will be his last time ever going.  I pointed out to him that I’m in college and I still go every year, but he didn’t listen. 

I would want you with me, you know that.  But I wouldn’t want to make you move for me.  I know that being together is important to both of us, but I don’t want to make you put my work before yours or anything like that.  Especially now that you’re probably going back to school.  I’m just worried you’d be sorry, eventually.  This should be about both of us.  I don’t have a solution either, though.  I’m just thinking.

I can’t believe you’d bring up how I can’t reach your cabinets!  That’s so mean.  Now I have to think of a mean thing I miss about you.  The time you fell off my bed when we were trying to keep three of our feet on the floor?  

It sounds like everyone is doing well—I’m glad.  I got Monica’s letter too.  Tell her hi from me if you see her again.  I’m really trying to finish my applications before we go away, so I haven’t had a lot of time for other things.  I do have an essay I’m fairly happy with now, though, which I’m putting in for you to read.  Let me know what you think I can do to make it better. 

I hope I get to see you soon!  I love you and I miss you.  Please come to the lake, if you can.

Love,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

First things first: emphatically yes.  Of course I want to see you.  We’re still pretty busy at work, but I should be able to come for the weekend, anyway, although I might have to go back before Melissa does.  A couple of days is not ideal, admittedly, but it’s better than nothing.

Dana, you wouldn’t be making me do anything.  I like where I’m living now, sure, but I’ve never felt like I have to live there forever.  I don’t have family here, or anyone who means to me what you do; there’s still Samantha, of course, but I don’t need to be in any particular place to look for her.  And if you can go somewhere else for school, I can go somewhere else for school.  I’m not saying we’d have to do it, if you really don’t feel right about it.  But it wouldn’t be a sacrifice for me.  I want to live with you.

On a lighter note, I can’t believe you’d call me mean and then bring up that incident.  I thought we agreed we weren’t talking about it anymore.  Sometimes I’m amazed that I can still look Monica in the eye.

I read your essay, and I think it’s great.  My general suggestion is that I think you could make more of some of the work you’ve done these past couple of years—talk about it the way you talk about it to me, when you get all excited about it.  I think that’ll help show why you’d make such a good doctor.  I also wrote some comments in the margins for you, which I’m sending back.

I love you and miss you too.  And I’ll see you in a few weeks.

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

I’m so glad you’re coming!  Don’t worry if it’s only for a few days.  I don’t know if you’ve talked to Melissa yet, but she might not want to stay longer than that either.  You know how it is with her and our dad.

I’m not saying I wouldn’t want you to move, just that I’m not sure.  I don’t know if we should try to decide right now.  Maybe we should keep thinking about it and then decide once I know about medical school.  Also, what do you mean when you say you want to live with me?  Do you mean in the same city?  Or in the same apartment?  I wasn’t sure.

All right, we did say we wouldn’t bring that incident up again.  But I don’t think you should worry about it.  Monica doesn’t think badly of you.  She’s not one to get freaked out by stuff like that.

Thank you for the help with my essay too!  I’ve been working on your suggestions.  I think I’ll be done soon, and then I can finish up the last bits and send my applications off.  I can’t believe it, though.  It’s a little bit scary. 

My mom said to say hello to you and that she’s looking forward to seeing you again at the end of the month.  And so am I!

Love,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

I talked to Melissa, and we made our plans to drive down together.  We’re both only going to stay for the weekend, so we’ll get there on Friday afternoon and leave on Monday.  I wish it could be longer, but I’m so glad I’m going to see you.  I’m making a list of stuff I want to talk to you about, so I don’t forget anything.

No, we don’t have to decide right away.  I just wanted to let you know where I stand and how I see things.  As for what I meant by living with you, I know that I want to be in the same city.  But ideally, I’d want that to be in the same apartment.  I love the idea of being there with you, every day.  Of not having to make plans to see you, because you’re right with me.  But I know we haven’t talked about this before.  Hell, I don’t even know if you’ve ever thought about it.  So we can take some time.  If you’d rather not do it right away, we don’t have to.  But it’s something that sounds really good to me.

I’m glad you’re almost done with your applications.  I’m sure they’re in great shape.  I’ve been looking more at classes I could take—I even got a couple of course catalogues.  I think I’m going to start with an evening class or two in the fall, just to see how it goes. 

I’ll see you very soon now.

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

Only you would make a list of things for us to talk about.  Actually, it’s a good idea, though.  Maybe I should make one too, with all my free time.  Since—drumroll please!—I sent in my last application this morning.  I almost didn’t want to put it in the mailbox.  I thought I was nervous before, but at least I was doing something.  Now I just have to wait for a few months.  You know I’m not very good at that.  I know I did my best.  But what if it’s not enough?  What if they think I’m not serious about this because I’m a woman?  I know thinking about all this is getting me nowhere, at this point.  But I can’t help it, so I figured I’d tell you.

The idea of living with you—I’m not sure what I think yet.  I was going to say I haven’t thought about it before, but that wouldn’t exactly be true.  I was thinking about it, because my dad was hassling me about the Linda LeClair thing.  He kept saying I shouldn’t even think about doing something like that, and asking me if I would ever think of doing something like that, and finally I pointed out that it’s not exactly like Barnard is encouraging us to live with boyfriends—which was the point of the whole thing—and besides, cohabitation is not a contagious disease the last time I checked, and I don’t even know Linda.  And he told me not to be smart about it, but still it pretty much ended the conversation.  But I did think about it then, about you and me.  I didn’t say anything to you because I wasn’t sure how to.  And I’m still not sure, honestly.  I like what you said, about being together every day.  But as you can see from what I just wrote, it wouldn’t exactly go down well in my family.  I’m not afraid to tell them I’m going my own way, if it’s really important, but I’m not sure if this is important enough to me to start a fight over.  Sometimes I still feel like I can’t do things like that, because of Missy.  I know that’s probably silly.  But that’s how it is, so I’m not sure.  I hope you understand.

I guess this isn’t a very fun letter.  Here’s one good thing—since I’m done with my applications, I’ll actually have time to read again.  I’m getting a bunch of mysteries to take to the lake.  Also, Charlie and I went to see _Yellow Submarine_ , which we loved.  Have you seen it yet?

Love,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

Congratulations on sending in the applications!  I know you’re nervous—I’m sure I would be too—but I honestly don’t think you should worry.  You are going to be good enough.  And anyone who thinks you’re not serious about this needs to get a grip.  Before you know it, I’m going to be calling you Doctor Scully.

I’m laughing at the idea of cohabitation being a contagious disease.  It sounds like a B movie—The Cohabitation Contagion.  But I understand what you’re saying.  I do think that, if you want to do it, it’s something we should really think about, seeing that I want it too.  I know your family wouldn’t like it, but at the same time the two of us aren’t kids.  It’s just a fact: times are changing, and we should get to make our own choices.  I know you agree with that, on some level.  But if you’re not sure, you’re not sure, and I wouldn’t want you to do anything that would make you unhappy.  We can keep talking about it.

Work is going well.  I did see _Yellow Submarine_ —a bunch of us got together and went on Friday night.  I’ve got news about everyone, but I’ll save it for when I see you.  Less than a week to go on that!

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

I loved seeing you last weekend.  I almost didn’t realize how much I’d missed you, until you were there again.  I would have been happy just looking at you.  Or just holding hands.  (Okay, that’s a lie.  And I might be wrong to say it, but honestly, God bless Missy for starting that screaming fight with my dad and keeping him distracted all afternoon.)

Of course, I keep thinking about what you said to me on Sunday.  I hope you understand why I didn’t know what to say right away.  I have thought about it, Mulder.  I think it would be pretty strange if I hadn’t.  I guess I didn’t think it would happen so soon, for me.  You see, there have always been people telling me that I’d meet someone and want to get married, and then I wouldn’t care about being a doctor anymore, and I knew that wasn’t true.  But I guess the two things kind of got separated in my mind—not that I didn’t think I’d ever get married, but I thought I’d go to medical school first.  Like those were my two choices for after college, but I could only have one and not both.  And I guess I’m still…I don’t feel settled yet.  I’m still waiting to find out what will happen.  With medical school, I mean.  It’s not that I don’t like the idea of marrying you.  I’m pretty sure I like it a lot, Mulder.  It’s just I’m not sure about making it definite quite yet.  Does that make sense to you?

We’re still having a good time at the lake—we’ll be going home on Friday.  I hope driving back with Missy wasn’t too hard on you.  I know she was still pretty mad.  I wish she and my dad could get along for just two days.  Even if their fighting helped us out, this time.

I love you so much, and nothing could change that.

Love,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

I loved seeing you too.  You looked maybe the most gorgeous I’ve ever seen you (although it’s hard to pick, because you’re always beautiful).  I was afraid I’d stop breathing when I touched you.

Dana, I didn’t expect you to have an answer for me that minute.  I know I kind of sprung the idea on you.  But I know I want to be with you, I know we make sense together, I know we make each other better, and I thought there was no harm in bringing it up and seeing what you thought.  What you’re saying absolutely makes sense.  I honestly didn’t think it would happen now for me, if ever.  I didn’t expect to meet someone like you, but I did, and I’m so lucky I did, and that changed how I thought about the whole thing.  Anyway, I wanted to put getting married on the table, so to speak.  We don’t have to buy the rings today.  You let me know when you want to talk about it again.

The drive back wasn’t too bad.  Melissa was in a bad mood at first, but we listened to music and that seemed to help. 

I’m so happy I’ll be seeing you again at the end of the month.  A weekend is not enough time.

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

Thank you for understanding what I meant.  I didn’t know that I made you feel differently about getting married.  That almost feels like a big responsibility.  But it feels nice too.  I will let you know when I want to talk again.

Today was my last day at the hospital for the summer, which felt strange.  But it was actually a really nice day.  I had to bring a woman her lunch, and when I first got to her room she seemed really distressed.  I could tell she was in pain, and she could barely talk to me.  So I called for the doctor and then I sat there with her until he came.  I just tried to help her calm down.  And I think it helped a little, it really did.  She smiled at me when I left.  That’s the kind of thing I want to be able to do for people.  I know it’s not about me, but it did make me feel better about everything.  Like I really will be a good doctor, and I’ll get in to medical school after all.

Well, whether I do or whether I don’t, I should know by November.  Maybe after that I’ll know what I want to do, about getting married.  It’ll give me some time to think.

My parents are taking Charlie to college next week.  It’s funny to think he’s starting—makes me feel old.  Only a week after that, I’ll be a senior.  And, of course, I’ll be back with you, which makes me very happy.

Love,

Dana

 

Dear Dana,

It sounds like you had a wonderful last day.  I bet the hospital is sorry to be losing you.  I was thinking about the first summer we wrote to each other, when you were telling me how much you hated your uniform.  I was probably already a little into you then, even if I hadn’t admitted it to myself.  Right now, I don’t mind admitting it.  And I’m also more than a little into you.  I’m glad you feel better about getting into school.  Like I’ve told you, I’m sure you will.

What you said about November has me thinking.  Would it be all right if I asked you then, Dana?  That doesn’t mean I’m expecting any particular answer, or that we can’t talk about what it would mean before then—that’s probably a good idea, actually.  But I’d like to know that it’s somewhere out there.

Tell Charlie good luck from me.  I’ll see you in less than two weeks, and I’m so excited about it.

Love,

Mulder

 

Dear Mulder,

You’re so sweet.  I’m more than a little into you too.

As for you asking me in November—I think I’d like that.  I can’t promise anything.  But I would like that.

This is just going to be a short letter, since I have to finish packing.  I’m getting back on Saturday around noon, and I’ll call you as soon as I’m there.  I’ve loved your letters, Mulder.  But I think I’ll love seeing you in person even more.

Love,

Dana

 

_Summer 1969_

Captain and Mrs. William Scully

request the pleasure of your company

at the marriage of their daughter

Dana Katherine

to

Mr. Fox William Mulder

Saturday, the twelfth of July…


End file.
